Author: Jack
Keywords: .
Summary: Jenny loses her memory in a crash, until she finds herself in familar territory once again.
The woman became aware of her surroundings gradually, as she awoke from a deep, troubled sleep.
Her head hurt. That was the first thing she was sure of. The throbbing in her head wasn’t part of the strange dreams that had gone before. She started to try to move, but thought better of it as waves of pain poured through her and nausea made the muscles in her stomach contract violently.
She tried to open her eyes, but the light was blinding and made her head hurt even worse, so she closed them again quickly. For a moment she just kept still, trying to figure out where she was.
All she was sure of was that she was in a bed, and her head hurt. Nothing else would connect for her . . . not a name, not a place, nothing. She felt very much alone, and had to fight back rising waves of panic.
Voices broke in on her struggle for control. Two male voices, speaking from somewhere off to her left and down by the foot of her bed. She tried to focus on the voices, to make sense of what they were saying.
"Ah, yes, this is the case I was telling you about earlier," one man said. His voice had a gentle, fatherly quality. Could it be her father? The woman wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think so. Surely she would recognize her father’s voice when she heard it?
"Hmmm." The second voice sounded younger, more forceful. "Chart looks pretty routine to me."
"Oh, her case is fairly straightforward, medically speaking," the first voice replied. "It’s the circumstances surrounding it that were . . . unusual."
"How so?"
"Well, the paramedics responded to a report of a car going off the road. According to the report, when they got there they found a single vehicle had gone over an embankment, flipped over at least twice, and ended up upside down and up against a tree. Car was totaled . . . but somehow the woman – the driver, apparently – had been thrown completely clear, and suffered no more than a minor concussion and a few bruises and abrasions."
"It happens," the second voice said, sounding bored.
"Yeah, but according to the paramedics, when she was thrown clear she somehow lost all her clothing." The first voice chuckled. "They said it was the most extraordinary thing they’d ever seen. The car was a total wreck, and there was this pretty young thing just stretched out on the grass nearby, with hardly a scratch on her, stark naked. They’re still trying to figure out what happened. Near as anybody can figure it, her clothes got snagged on something as she was being thrown clear."
"What, all of them?"
"Apparently. We may never know. The car burned after the accident, and there wasn’t much we could recover."
"Who were the paramedics?" the second voice asked. "Not . . ."
"BJ and Dev," the older man replied, sounding at once amused and a little bit upset. "It’s a damn good thing the girl was unconscious for the whole trip. How would you like to be strapped into a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, nude, with those two perverts ‘examining’ you the whole way here? The drive took about twenty minutes."
The woman felt herself blushing, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Was she the naked woman the two were talking about? She lifted one hand to explore under the covers of her bed, and discovered she was wearing a hospital gown made of a slightly scratchy material. That was comforting, for some reason.
"Did anybody talk to them?"
"Oh, Nurse Beckett chewed them out when they wheeled her into the ER nude, but you know those two. As long as they’ve got the union behind them, they’ll do as they damned well please."
"So . . . has she recovered consciousness yet?"
"No. Not so far. I hope she wakes up soon, though. So far we don’t have a clue as to her identity. No purse . . . hell, no clothes at all. Car was so far gone the cops couldn’t even get a complete plate off it. Right now, this little lady is Jane Doe, until she wakes up and gives us some answers."
The woman frowned, trying to focus through her disorientation. That name . . . it didn’t sound right. It wasn’t right. She was . . . "J-jenny." The croaking sound of her own voice startled her. She hadn’t realized she was speaking out loud until the word had already slipped out.
"What was that?" the first voice asked. She felt a hand take her by the wrist and hold her arm, and forced her eyes open despite the bright lights. A graying, slightly paunchy man in a white coat and wearing a stethoscope around his neck was bending over the left side of her bed, taking her pulse. "You’re awake! Good. Now what did you just say?"
"N-not Jane," she said slowly. "Jenny. My name is Jenny." It felt like a major triumph to be able to say that much.
"Well, Jenny, I’m Doctor Farlow. This is Doctor Vane." He gestured at a younger, thinner man with dark hair behind him. "You’re at West Side Hospital, after a car accident. What’s your last name, Jenny?"
Jenny started to answer, then realized that she couldn’t. She didn’t know her last name. Except for that one burst of clarity that had given her the name ‘Jenny’ she couldn’t remember anything. "I . . . I don’t know," she finally admitted. She was fighting another panic attack. "I don’t know!"
"All right, calm down, Jenny," Farlow said. "Calm down. Traumatic amnesia is not uncommon in cases like yours. You have a pretty nasty bump on the head, and that can make you lose some or all of your memory for a time. Usually it’s a very short-term problem. So don’t worry about it, and don’t fight it. Just try to relax and get better."
"Do you remember anything at all, Jenny?" Doctor Vane asked. "An address . . . a phone number? Family or friends? Someone we can contact? Anything at all would be helpful."
Jenny tried to think of something or someone, but except for a fuzzy image of a man she knew she cared for but couldn’t remember why, there was nothing there. She just COULDN’T REMEMBER . . .
(For a moment she was in another place, an empty room she somehow knew was in a police station. She was naked, and feeling embarrassed and humiliated and terribly frustrated because she couldn’t remember something . . . a phone number. She couldn’t remember a phone number she needed so that someone could come and rescue her from her long ordeal . . .)
"I’m s-sorry," she said as the brief vision faded again. "I can’t remember anything."
"That’s okay, Jenny," Farlow told her in his paternal voice. "You just try and get some rest. But if you do remember anything, anything at all, use the button right over here to call for a nurse."
"It’s important that you let us know anything you do remember, Jenny," Vane added. "The very best way to combat amnesia is to put the patient into familiar surroundings. That helps the brain get back into familiar patterns of thinking. So we want to learn everything we can about you so that we can put you into familiar surroundings as soon as possible. A favorite place . . . or in the company of someone you know. Even giving you a book you love might be the key to unlocking the rest of the memories that are trapped up in that pretty little head of yours."
"I understand, Doctor," she told him. "I’ll do my best."
"You do that, Jenny," Farlow said. "I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow." After the two men had gone, Jenny stared at the ceiling of the small hospital room and tried to remember something, anything. But it was no use. After a while she stopped trying to fight it, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
(She was watching a kite rise into the air on a warm, breezy Fourth of July. Teenaged boys in khaki uniforms surrounded her . . . Boy Scouts? Jenny watched the kite flying higher, then gasped as something tugged at her string bikini top. Seconds later there was another pull, this time on her bottoms, and Jenny saw the kite string carrying her swimsuit up into the sky. She was naked, and all those teens were staring at her, ogling her bare body as she ran for the cover of a parked bus . . .)
Jenny woke up with a start, confused for a moment by the disturbing dream. She could almost feel hands pawing at her, could almost hear boyish voices giggling and making lewd comments.
What a strange dream, she thought. Why had she seen herself losing her bikini like that? Maybe it had some deep psychological meaning, some fear of having her memories stripped away or something like that. She’d have to remember to ask the doctors about it.
And why Boy Scouts? Could that have been some fragment of real memory? Perhaps she was a den mother, or knew someone who worked in Scouting. That might be one of those clues Doctor Farlow had been talking about. Something that might help her find other memories. If you took away the silly part about the bikini attached to the kite string, the dream might well have been a real memory of some scout outing she’d attended.
Suddenly excited, Jenny reached for the call button to summon a nurse. She didn’t want to fall asleep again and perhaps lose this memory. Best to pass it on – the part that made sense, at least – while it was still fresh in her mind.
Jenny pressed the button, but nothing happened. There was no sound, no answer from the nurse’s station, nothing. She pressed again, and then a third time. The little light on the panel next to the button hadn’t even come on. Something was wrong with the call button . . . .
Angry, Jenny sat up in bed, noticing that her head didn’t hurt as bad this time. She thought for a moment of just going back to sleep and trusting that she could remember the dream again the next time someone came around, but her brush with amnesia had left her terrified of forgetting things. Darn it, she thought, I’m going to report this if I have to find Doctor Farlow’s office by myself!
With that, Jenny threw off her covers and sat upright, dangling her legs over the edge of the bed. The motion made her dizzy for a moment, and she took her time getting oriented before she tried to move further.
(She was dizzy after taking the tumble off her bike, and she couldn’t see anything. Somewhere a horn blared and brakes squealed. What was that all about? Only gradually did Jenny realize that she was on the ground with her dress all the way up over her head and her bare ass exposed for anyone to see . . .)
Jenny shook her head slowly. Where had THAT come from? Surely that wasn’t a memory. Things like that just didn’t happen to people. Did they?
She stood up carefully, thankful that she wasn’t hooked up to an IV or any other tubes that could have restricted her movement. Except for the muted throbbing in her head, she didn’t feel too bad. In fact, it felt nice to be standing on her own two feet. Taking a step forward, Jenny felt an odd tickling across her bottom. She stopped and used both hands to explore the contours of her back and sides. That was when she realized the limitations of her hospital gown.
It was the kind of garment that covered from neck to knees, unbroken in front but tying across the back. No doubt it was advertised as "one-size-fits-most," but Jenny’s 38CC chest wasn’t exactly "most." The gown was tied across the small of her back, but there was a fair-sized gap left exposed by the inadequate material. And Jenny wasn’t wearing anything under the gown. The tickling she had felt had been the end of one of the tie-strings brushing against one cheek as she moved.
Jenny found herself blushing again, and in a strange way it was a familiar, almost comforting sensation. It was a good thing she’d noticed the way the gown was tied before she reached the hallway, she thought. It would have been supremely embarrassing to go walking through the public corridors of the hospital with her bare ass exposed for all to see. She knew, even with her memory still clouded, that she would never reveal herself like THAT.
(She could see herself stuck at the top of a fence, her panties snagged on something. They tore free of her body with a loud ripping noise, leaving her bare-bottomed in front of two softball teams . . .)
Jenny forced the disturbing vision from her thoughts and gathered the material of her gown in one clenched fist behind her back. It felt as if she had covered everything behind her sufficiently, though the front of her gown was now strained nearly to the bursting point. Glancing down, she saw that her nipples were outlined clearly against the thin white fabric, but Jenny wasn’t going to give up now. She started forward again.
Reaching the door to her room, she leaned against the door frame and peered out into the hall. Her room was near the very end of a dead-end corridor; far up a long, straight hall she could see a lobby area that must hold the nurse’s station. Jenny fought another wave of dizziness and started toward it, still clutching her gown behind her with her left hand while she used her right for balance and support.
The trek was harder than she had pictured it. Her head was spinning, and her legs felt leaden. But she was determined. She passed one room, then another, with only two more to go before she reached the lobby. Half way there . . . .
As she passed the third door, a small figure erupted from it just in front of her, and Jenny had to step sideways to avoid a collision. The sudden change in direction made her stagger and lurch, and she threw out her left hand to catch the far wall of the hallway as she started to fall.
Behind her she heard a voice, high-pitched and excited. "Mommy! Mommy! That lady’s got a bare behind!" Blushing, Jenny tried to get control of her gown again, while the little girl’s mother gathered up her offspring and walked past her with a disdainful sniff and a look that condemned Jenny for shamelessly exposing herself to innocent kids.
(Soaking wet, Jenny was aware of every eye on her as the bus lurched and growled through the rain storm. Her white blouse was almost transparent, and her nipples showed clearly through blouse and bra alike, while the heavy skirt kept trying to slip from around her hips. She fought a losing battle trying to cover her breasts without losing control of her skirt, until . . .)
Jenny brought herself back to reality, straightened up, and started again for her goal. All these short but vivid flashes were disturbing. There seemed to be this common thread of embarrassment and humiliation running through them all, and Jenny was worried at what they might mean. Why would anyone have daydreams about such things?
At last, she turned the corner and stood near the end of the L-shaped counter where the duty nurses kept vigil over this wing of the hospital. There were a number of people in the lobby, most of them patients by the look of things. A man wearing a shabby bathrobe and sitting in a wheelchair was closest to her, apparently waiting patiently to ask the only nurse in sight a question. She was thoroughly occupied on the telephone, and seemed only barely aware of either Jenny or the man.
The man was looking up at her with an enraptured expression on his face, and Jenny slowly realized that he was staring at the breasts so tightly outlined by her gown. She almost – ALMOST – forgot herself and let go of the back of the gown, but at the last moment she remembered to fold her right arm across her chest while the left continued to hold things together in back. The man caught the hostile gleam in Jenny’s eyes and looked away.
After a few long minutes, Jenny felt herself growing more and more lightheaded. Suddenly the room was spinning, and she was swaying on her feet, then falling, falling. She toppled like a felled tree, coming down directly across the front of the man’s wheelchair. He caught at her as she landed across his lap, preventing her from bumping her head or sliding all the way to the floor. For a long moment she couldn’t move, but had to lie there gasping for breath with the wind knocked out of her.
Then she began to realize the position she was in. She was sprawled across the man’s lap, and in the fall the gown had not merely come open, but completely untied, so that Jenny’s bare ass was sticking up and out, fully exposed. She must have looked like she was awaiting a spanking.
She could also feel a definite stirring under her stomach, and it took a few moments for her befogged brain to realize that the man was becoming aroused. Jenny squealed and rolled away, desperate to get away.
But Jenny hadn’t realized how the sleeves of her gown had become tangled in the workings of the wheelchair.
Her first attempt to get free didn’t work. She was stuck in her awkward position, and that caused Jenny to panic. She HAD to get free, whatever the cost. Visions of being in the grasp of some flesh-crazed pervert danced through her mind, and Jenny pulled herself up and away with all the strength and determination of a woman possessed.
She broke away and found her feet, staggering backwards. Her hospital gown, however, remained draped across the man’s lap. Jenny stood for a long moment, in total shock as she realized that she was now standing naked in the middle of the hospital lobby. Everyone was looking at her. The guy in the wheelchair was close enough to get a good, long look at the sparse blonde bush that highlighted rather than concealed Jenny’s private parts.
Feeling her face going crimson once more, Jenny tried to cover her tits and pussy with both hands. As she did, thoughts were racing through her mind almost too fast to register. What would her husband have to say about THIS public stripping? This was even worse than that time she’d lost all her clothes while hitchhiking on the back of a motorcycle after getting that flat tire. At least this time Ashley wasn’t involved . . . she was starting to think that Ashley was somehow deliberately arranging some of these terrible humiliations.
Suddenly Jenny squealed again. Forgetting herself, she clapped her hands together in pure delight as she realized she could remember everything. Her whole life – which seemed to involve an inordinate amount of time naked in front of strangers – was now open to her. She knew her full name, and could picture her husband and that new house that had caused her so much embarrassment on moving day. She could remember all the jobs she’d held – none of them very long, it seemed, because either Jenny or the company would usually find it wise to end the business relationship soon after one of Jenny’s "accidents" – and why the thought of Boy Scouts made her cringe. She could REMEMBER!
Then she remembered that she was still naked, and tried to cover up again.